


we regret to inform you...

by lonelyheartsclub_com



Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: M/M, but unfortunately that shall never happen, dss spoilers, harold just wants things to go well for his bf once, he's trying and that's what counts, poor bertie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27630745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyheartsclub_com/pseuds/lonelyheartsclub_com
Summary: one second harold and bertie are baking a cake in the kitchen.the next, they're booking a train to london, tears in bertie's eyes.
Relationships: Harold Mukherjee/Bertie Wells
Kudos: 11





	we regret to inform you...

bertie put his glasses on and harold smiled. he liked to wear his glasses around harold. liked to look at harold in clearer detail. he watched his lover start to ice a cake very carefully. bertie was starving and he wanted chocolate cake, so why not ask harold if they could bake one together?

harold was muttering something to himself, and bertie felt at peace. for once. everything was fine. they were fine. 

and then the phone rung. bertie went to go pick it up. "hello? the honorable bertie wells speaking."

"dear sir, we regret to inform you..."

his heart stopped. 

"that your sister, daisy wells, has passed away. she drowned in the nile." they went into a deep explanation about how there had been a murder and daisy had exposed the killer, and how the killer had dragged daisy off the boat to both of their demises. if anything, it was the most _daisyish_ way to die. he hated it. 

and bertie dropped the phone. and he fell to his knees. harold walked in, probably due to the loud crash.

"bertie? love, what's wrong?"

"they're telling me...daisy drowned. in the nile. you know how i said she was going to egypt for christmas with her friend, amina el maghrabi?" harold nodded. "she fell off the boat. well, someone pulled her off. they both went down, and daisy didn't come back up."

harold said nothing, but bertie could see the pity in his dark eyes. 

bertie closed his eyes. 

he could see daisy, in his mind's eye. 

but it wasn't his daisy, it wasn't squashy. her usually curly hair was in clumps, with seaweed and other debris adorning it, and her lips were blue, and her pale skin was grey, and her eyes were closed. 

she was dead. 

bertie opened his eyes and stumbled away from the table, slamming the phone on the receiver. 

"they're lying! daisy knows how to swim. i taught her. harold, they're lying!" harold got to his knees as well, and took bertie's trembling hands in his warm ones. 

"bertie. love. did they say they've found the body?"

"they mentioned your brother going under to look for her, and coming back up empty handed every time." 

"how many times did he go under?"

"30. he went under there 30 times and he didn't find her, but i know she's alive! one doesn't die at 15, harold. that isn't how it works."

bertie's hands were shaking uncontrollably. he was shaking uncontrollably. he sat with his knees up to his chest, like he did when he was a boy. he rocked back and forth and whispered to himself, "they're lying." over and over. 

harold was breathing in short breaths and bertie could tell he was crying. he hated it when harold was upset. 

"bertie, love. i'm sorry. i really am, okay? but they aren't lying." he got level to level with bertie, and looked him in the eye.

"i'm not going to believe daisy's dead until i see the damn body myself!" he shouted. harold flinched away and bertie swallowed the lump that came up in his throat. 

"i'm sorry, harold. i didn't mean...to snap at you like that. it was uncalled for."

"it's okay. would you want me to book a train to london for the memorial?"

bertie nodded, tear stricken. 

like he said earlier. one didn't die at 15. that wasn't how things worked. it simply wasn't. you didn't die at 15 and have your face printed on every newspaper across the country with, "dead at 15: what a tragedy!" emblazoned above your head and have your mother spout a load of sodding bullshit about how she loved you in the article about you. no 15 year old deserved that. 

especially not his daisy.


End file.
